


Too Little Too Late

by bpdizaya (ThiefofWords)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: BDSM, Disturbing Themes, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Horror, Kidnapping, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Torture, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-11-11 06:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11142936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThiefofWords/pseuds/bpdizaya
Summary: Heiwajima Shizuo's overwhelming strength and short fuse made him infamous in Ikebukuro; anyone with a brain knew not to mess with him... anyone other than Orihara Izaya, that is, who always seemed to be one step ahead of both him and everybody else. Unfortunately, there were exceptions to every rule -- exceptions that could very well make both ShizuoandIzaya wish that they'd never been born.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends... I come to you with yet another, even more fucked up fanfiction. I will not be posting trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, however, because this fic is a horror fic... triggers are a given, so PLEASE -- read at your own risk, and make sure to practice self-care if needed.

_"Oh, oh yeah, fuck me, yeah, fuck my cunt!"_

_"Yeah, take it, bitch... take it like the dirty slut you are."_

The sound of skin smacking against skin echoed throughout the cabin of the parked moving truck, the only light coming from the video playing on its driver's cellphone. He'd been sitting outside the luxury apartment building for nearly fifteen minutes already, watching for the clock on the dashboard to tell him that it was time to put his plan into action. He'd waited a long, long while for this chance, and now that it was here, he was finding it hard to be patient. He contemplated rubbing one out, but he didn't want to risk someone seeing him and calling the cops; he couldn't afford to be careless, not when he was this close. Making sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets, he grabbed the duffel bag from the passenger seat and exited the vehicle, going around to the back so he could pull out the moving dolly he'd "borrowed" from the back of a furniture warehouse. 

He'd been expecting security to stop him, even had an excuse ready just in case -- but the guard behind the desk didn't even glance in his direction, too busy watching reruns of an old anime he couldn't remember the name of. He took the elevator up to the ninth floor, leaving the dolly behind an obviously fake potted plant. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he went over to the first door on the right and rang the doorbell. After several seconds, the door opened and a woman in her mid-twenties looked out at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, her tone one of annoyance. He didn't recognize her. 

"I was under the impression a man named Orihara Izaya lived here. Are you his girlfriend?" 

The sound the woman made was like a cross between a snort and a choke. "Hahaha, no. I'd rather kill myself." He got the feeling she wasn't joking. "I'm his secretary. Do you have an appointment?" 

"I do, actually." He lied, nodding. "Could you tell him Sato Hiro is here to see him?" 

The woman looked him up and down; something felt off about him, but she couldn't quite place what it was. Sighing, she moved away from the door so he had enough room to enter. "Wait here. I'll be right back." 

The moment her back turned, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the dart gun he had designed to look like a Smith  & Wessen. Pointing it at her neck, he pulled the trigger -- the sedative didn't take long to kick in, the woman dropping to the ground less than a minute later. He loaded a second dart into the gun, stepping over the woman's unconscious body into a large, spacious area that seemed to be a mix between a living room, an office, and a library. It didn't look a whole lot different from when he was here three years prior, right after he'd sworn vengeance against that monster Heiwajima Shizuo for ruining his life; when he'd discovered that there was an information broker in Shinjuku with a grudge against Heiwajima, he'd thought he'd be able to use the whole "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" bullshit to get some free intel. He'd been very, very wrong; Izaya had insisted on payment, and only after swallowing his pride and begging did he agree to help -- right after he helped him rob a bank. 

"I have it all planned out." The informant had told him. "Trust me." He'd said. "As long as you follow my instructions exactly, nothing can go wrong." 

Believing him had been a big mistake. He hadn't even been in the bank for more than a minute when the police showed up to arrest him, citing something about a tip from an "anonymous citizen" -- he'd never forget the humiliation, the accusing stares of the bank clerks and passerby having burned into him like a branding iron. It didn't take a genius to figure out he'd been set up. 

There was a creak from overhead, alerting the man to Izaya's presence. Slipping into the shadows underneath the staircase, he waited until the informant had reached the bottom to aim his gun. "Don't move." He ordered. 

"Well, this is unexpected." Instead of sounding scared or worried, the broker actually sounded amused. "If I knew I was going to have a guest, I'd have made tea." 

The man couldn't wait to wipe that smug smile off his face. "I'm not here for a chat." 

"Clearly. You haven't killed my secretary, have you? It would be a pain to have to find a new one." 

"Don't you think there are other things you should be worrying about right now?" 

"What, like the gun pointed at me? If you were here to kill me, you'd have done it already." 

"True." He pulled the trigger, the informant reflexively squeezing his eyes shut; when he didn't hear the sound of a bullet firing, he opened them back up, his focus falling on the dart that was now sticking out of his arm. 

_Uh-oh..._

His vision blurring, Izaya had to grab on to the railing to stop himself from losing his balance. "That... is a suprisingly realistic dart gun..." He managed to slur, before his eyes closed and he collapsed to the floor. 

"Thanks. I designed it myself." The man responded, despite knowing full well that the informant wouldn't be able to hear him. Whistling the opening theme of that old anime the guard had been watching, he set down his duffel bag and got to work.


	2. Anti-Nostalgia

_"Come on, bitch, beg for it! Beg for me to shoot my load inside your thirsty pussy!"_

_"No way, you can't cum inside! I'll get pregnant!"_

_Fuck..._

_"Just get an abortion or something, I don't care. Shit, you're tight..."_

_"That's not funny! Hey, w-wait, ah -- slow down, you're -- ah -- hurting me!"_

**_Fuck..._**

_"Oh, yeah... fuck, I'm gonna cum... ah, fuck!"_

_"No, wait, stop! Not inside, please! I don't want to get pregnant!"_

**_Fuck!_**

Letting out a low groan, Sato Hiro spilled his pearly-white seed out over his hand as the man in the porn he was watching released his own load inside of the protesting woman. It was the third time he'd masturbated since he got back to his safehouse, his adrenaline racing in anticipation of what he was planning to do; taking a moment to catch his breath, he wiped his hand off with a piece of toilet paper and pulled a pack of menthols out of the back pocket of his jeans. "Only twenty minutes left 'til showtime..." He plucked a cigarette out of the pack and brought it to his lips, searching around for his Zippo so he could light it and take a deep drag. "You've waited three fucking years for this chance -- you can wait a little while longer." 

_Besides... delayed gratification always makes satisfaction seem sweeter._

Taking another deep drag, Hiro closed his current browser window and pulled up the feed for the wireless webcam he'd installed in the basement earlier that evening. There was no way to tell just by looking if his captive had regained consciousness yet, but considering the fact that he was: A, blindfolded; B, gagged; and C, bound to a chair, it wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway. 

_Fifteen minutes left._

As he sat there smoking his cigarette, Hiro's thoughts travelled back in time to before his life had gone to shit. He'd had a job, a wife (Yuki, her name was), even a baby on the way -- sure, they didn't have a lot of money, but they weren't exactly struggling to survive, either. In fact, at the time, he'd thought he'd had it pretty good. 

He'd thought wrong. 

The problems had started when the insurance he'd gotten through the company he worked for decided they were no longer going to cover any pregnancy-related medical bills. Being the devoted husband he was, Hiro had done everything in his power to make things easier for Yuki, even going so far as to take up a second job -- but instead of thanking him, all she had done was complain about how he was never around. He remembered coming home one evening after working overtime, looking forward to a warm meal and a good night's sleep; what he'd found instead was a note on the fridge from Yuki saying that she was 'at a girlfriend's' and that she'd 'be home in the morning', leaving him with no dinner _or_ companionship (not that she'd been giving him a lot of companionship in the first place, due to the whole pregnancy thing.) He'd ended up reheating some leftover curry, his sleep that night some of the worst he'd ever gotten. 

_Thirteen minutes left..._

The thing is... unlike his wife, Hiro had never once complained about his situation. He was a fucking _man_ , after all -- it was his goddamn _duty_ to grin and bear it, no matter how overwhelmed he became. That's what he'd told himself, at least... but now? Now, he knew better. 

_Ten minutes left._

The closer they'd gotten to the baby's due date, the worse Yuki had become. It was like he was walking on egg shells; even the tiniest things were able to set her off, and every conversation made him feel like he was trying to navigate a mine field. He'd ended up getting so stressed that he'd decided to make an account on one of those camgirl websites, his loneliness spurring him to spend thousands and thousands of yen on any model that would give him the time of day -- but what had started as a distraction quickly turned into an addiction, and it wasn't long before Hiro was out of money... _and_ a job. 

"Your work performance just isn't what it used to be." He remembered his boss telling him, the look that had been in his eyes one of complete and utter disappointment. "I'm sorry, but... I'm afraid we have to let you go." 

He had felt so ashamed that instead of telling Yuki what was going on, he'd chosen to simply stick to his normal everyday routine of 'get up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, leave for work, come back from work, eat dinner, sleep' -- but instead of actually _going_ to his job, he was going out _looking_ for one. Unfortunately for him, the economy had gotten worse since the last time he'd been on the hunt for employment; after three weeks of searching, he still hadn't found anything that wasn't either a scam or completely out of his league. The only thing that had kept him going was the knowledge that he was going to be a father, but even _that_ ended up being taken from him; he'd come home one day to find that all of Yuki's belongings (and some of his) had been removed from the apartment, the only clue a note she had taped to the fridge. 

_'Dear Hiro,'_ it had began, each letter carefully written out in her elegant, flowing script. _'I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of living a lie -- I know you lost your job, I just didn't say anything because I didn't feel like I had the right. The truth is, Hiro... this baby... it isn't yours. It belongs to someone else, someone I love in a way I didn't even know I COULD love._

_I know this won't be easy for you to accept, but it's how it has to be. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner._

_Goodbye, Hiro. I hope you can get over this someday._

_Best wishes, Yuki'_

"Only five minutes left..." 

Finding it impossible to just sit and wait patiently, Hiro typed in the url for the Dollars website and scrolled down until he found the thread he'd posted before leaving to go aquire his target. The last time he'd checked it, there had been about 23 views and 5 comments (at least two of which were spam) -- he was pleased to discover that both numbers had gone up considerably since then, the view count in the thousands with the comments being in the hundreds. He wished he had enough time to read some of them, but with three minutes left and counting, there were more important things to do; turning on the cellphone he'd found in the pocket of Orihara's hoodie, Hiro copied the link from the Dollars thread and pasted it into a new text message. He wasn't 100% certain that the number he had was still accurate (if it even had been at all), but he was willing to bet that if it was, he'd be able to find a match for it in the broker's phone -- sure enough, when he typed in the first few digits, he found the same number (albeit under a different name.) 

_'Shizu-chan', huh? Cute._

He pressed the 'send' button, waiting until the message had been successfully delivered before turning the phone back off and pulling a black ski mask on over his face. Grabbing his duffel bag from the corner he'd left it in, Hiro unlocked the door to the basement and headed down its creaky steps.


	3. Bad Omens

"You know, Shizuo-kun... I'm beginning to believe that you are, in fact, _literally_ indescructable." Shinra dropped the last of three bloody bullets onto the surgical tray, setting down his forceps so he could clean off the blonde's wound with an alcohol wipe. "How many times has someone tried to kill you now? Four? Five?"

"I dunno, I never really bothered to count." Shizuo responded, waiting impatiently for Shinra to finish. It wasn't his fault people kept trying to pick fights with him; if anyone was to blame, it was that goddamn flea -- _he_ was the one that liked to go around getting people in trouble for his own fucking bullshit. Feeling a buzz in his pocket, Shizuo pulled out his phone and flipped it open. There was only one new message, from a number he didn't recognize and containing nothing but a link... curious, he decided to follow said link. 

"What... the _hell?"_

Shinra glanced up at him, frowning when he saw the strange look on his friend's face. "What is it?" He asked. Instead of answering with words, Shizuo turned his phone around so he could see for himself; it took him a moment to register what he was actually looking at, but when he did, an uncomfortable feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach. "'What the hell' is right..." He agreed. On the screen in front of him was what looked to be some sort of public livestream of someone's basement, which on its own wouldn't have been enough to unsettle him... but, seated in the center of both the basement _and_ the view of the camera, there was a man wearing a grey hoodie and black shorts. If that had been the _only_ thing noticeable about the man's appearance, it wouldn't be so disconcerting -- except he also happened to have been tied to a chair and blindfolded, a ball gag stuffed into his mouth. Between that and Shizuo's tiny phone screen, it was hard to tell if the man was even still alive or not... let alone who he was. 

"Do you think it's some sort of prank?" Shizuo asked, the entire situation giving him the creeps. 

"Hmmmmm, maybe... could you perhaps email me the link? It would be easier to see details on a bigger screen." 

"Yeah, sure, I guess. What's your email?" 

Shinra was just about to answer him when he got distracted by the door to his apartment opening, alerting him to the return of his headless lover. "Celty, you're back!" He exclaimed, flinging himself in her direction only to have a cellphone screen pushed into his face. 

[Have you seen it yet?!] 

"Seen what?" 

[The livestream!] She pushed past him into the living room, freezing when she noticed that he wasn't alone. [Shizuo?! You're here, too?!] 

"Should I not be?" He asked. 

[No, that's not it! It's just...] She struggled to find the right words. 

"Just...?" 

Deciding it would be easier just to show him, she went over to Shinra's computer and typed in the url to the Dollars website. Clicking on a link in one of the more recent threads, she waited for it to load before moving aside to let them see the screen. 

"What the _fuck?!"_ Shizuo was confused (and a little disturbed) to find that what he was looking at on Shinra's computer screen was the same livestream he'd been looking at only a few minutes before -- only now, instead of the man in the chair being alone, there was also a man wearing a ski mask in there along with him. 

"Celty... was this posted anywhere else?" Shinra asked, only slightly less disturbed than Shizuo. 

[Not that I know of. Why?] 

"Because somebody sent Shizuo-kun a link to this exact same page not even five minutes ago." 

[!!!] 

"Shizuo-kun, show her the..." Shinra's voice trailed off when he saw the other man's expression; he looked almost like he was in shock, his eyes wide and locked on to the screen in front of him. "...Shizuo-kun?" When he didn't answer, Shinra followed his stare to find it focused entirely on the man in the chair. 

_Wait a second..._

Shinra adjusted his glasses, moving in closer so he could get a better look. Now that he was seeing it on a bigger screen, it didn't take long for him to register what was wrong; he might not have been wearing that ridiculous jacket of his, but the haircut, the shape of his face, and the silver ring on each of his index fingers were enough for Orihara Izaya to be recognizable to anyone who knew him relatively well... and considering they'd been friends since middle school, Shinra definitely considered himself one of those who did. 

"It's a prank, it's gotta be." Shizuo said, more to convince himself than anyone else. "He's probably the one who sent me the link, that's exactly the kind of fucked up shit he'd do... hey, Shinra... you've got the flea's number, right? Is this it?" He shows him the number on his phone. 

"I don't know it off of the top of my head, but I can look it up." He takes his phone out of his pocket and pulls up his contacts. "If this _does_ happen to be another one of Orihara-kun's elaborate schemes, however, I find it highly unlikely that he'd use his own... phone..." 

"What, what is it? Was I right?" Shizuo asked, peering over Shinra's shoulder. Sure enough, the number was a match. "I knew it, I fucking knew it! I'm gonna fucking kill that son of a bitch!" 

"I would wait on that until you have proof, Shizuo-kun." Shinra told him. 

"It's the same number, ain't it? That's all the goddamn proof I need." 

"Oh? In that case, why don't you explain to me how he did it?" 

"Did what?" 

"Send you the link. How did he do it?" Shinra responded calmly. 

"What the hell do you mean, 'how did he do it?' He fucking texted me, obviously!" 

"How?" Shinra simply repeated. 

"With his goddamn phone!" 

"How?" 

"Damn it, Shinra -- it doesn't fucking matter how he did it, all that matters is that he did!" 

The exasperated doctor sighed. "Shizuo-kun... it's called using your common sense. Orihara-kun couldn't possibly be the one that sent you the link, because in case you've forgotten, he is quite _literally_ tied up right now -- but you know who _could_ have sent you the link?" He pointed to the man in the ski mask, who had just returned from being off-camera. "Now, there is always the possibility that he's an accomplice, and this really is just another one of Orihara-kun's elaborate attempts to get under your skin -- but if that were the case, it's highly unlikely that he would have given the link to anyone else. The fact that it was also posted on the Dollars website, a website guaranteed to be frequented by hundreds of people at a time, makes me seriously doubt that Orihara-kun was at all involved in the planning process; believe it or not, he's actually fairly shy... he's just good at hiding it." 

[I do find that a little hard to believe...] Izaya was loud, dramatic, even flamboyant at times -- it was difficult for Celty to imagine him acting even the slightest bit timidly. 

"I know, but like I said, he's good at hiding it... he doesn't like appearing vulnerable, I think he considers it a weakness..." Turning his attention back to the screen, Shinra couldn't help but hope that he was wrong. If he wasn't, and the man in the ski mask had sent Shizuo the link of his own accord... then he had a feeling things were about to get very, very _very_ bad for Izaya.


	4. A One-Sided Conversation

When Izaya next opened his eyes, it was to the sight of complete and utter darkness. Confused, it took him a moment to recall what had happened; he didn't bother trying to move, the rope that held him having been tied a little too tight to be an accident (it wasn't exactly tight enough to cut off his circulation, but it _was_ tight enough that he couldn't shift without having to worry about rope-burn). It wasn't until he noticed how sore his jaw was that he realized there was a ball-gag in his mouth; the fact that it was a ball-gag bothered him more than the pain, though he couldn't quite pin down why. He decided to blame it on the drool dripping from his chin, swallowing down his discomfort along with an excess of saliva.

_How long have I been out?_

With a blindfold covering his eyes, there was no way to tell what time of day it was. Even if they weren't covered, a smart kidnapper would keep their captive someplace without windows -- and considering he'd been caught off-guard in his own home, he doubted his was an idiot. He wished he'd gotten a better look at his face... he hadn't been able to recognize him based off of his voice alone. 

He heard the sound of creaking from behind him, causing him to instinctively tense up. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end; he had to will himself not to panic, breathing as steadily as the gag and his anxiety would let him. He couldn't see them, but he could _feel_ that someone was there -- a moment later, his kidnapper whispered into his ear. 

"You awake?" 

He didn't bother trying to respond, but he could tell by the low chuckle that he didn't need to. "It's showtime, Orihara-san." The man took off his blindfold, his vision taking a second to come into focus. As expected, he was in what looked to be some sort of basement; he wanted to try and sneak a peek at his kidnapper's face, but when he managed to catch him out of the corner of his eye, he was disappointed to find that he'd put on a ski mask. "See that camera up there?" 

_Camera?_

His eyes snapped up to where the other man was pointing, a webcam staring down at him from where it had been hooked up to the basement's low ceiling. Goosebumps started to spread over his skin -- he really, really, _really_ didn't want to know where this was going... but unfortunately for him, he didn't have a choice but to listen. 

"That camera is currently streaming live to hundreds, maybe even thousands of people... but I don't really care about any of them." 

_Please be bluffing, please be bluffing..._

"I hope you don't mind, but I used your phone to send our VIP the link... hopefully he's opened it by now, I'd hate to start the show without him." 

_Wait, what? Show? VIP? What is he talking about?_

"I like that little nickname you have for him... what was it again? 'Shizu-chan?'" 

Izaya had to try his best not to let the alarm show on his face. If all he had to protect himself with right now was mental armor, then he couldn't afford to show any chinks. 

"Though I gotta say, a cutesy nickname like that isn't at all fitting for someone like Heiwajima-san -- it'd be far more fitting for someone like you. What do you think? Should I start calling you Iza-chan? Or maybe Yaya-chan?" 

"..." 

"Don't like either of those, huh? I don't blame you, I'm not the greatest at coming up with nicknames." The man was circling him like a predator might circle its prey, making him more and more nervous with each passing second. 

_Stay calm, Izaya. Stay calm..._

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering 'what does Shizu-chan have to do with me?' Well, in order to explain that, I have to start at the beginning. See..." He stopped in front of him, crouching down so that they were eye-to-eye; Izaya had to force himself not to look away, having no desire to give this man any indication that he was getting to him. "A few years ago, my wife became pregnant. I was _overjoyed!_ I was going to be a _father._ So what did I do? I busted my fucking ass off for that bitch _and_ that baby, only to find out that it wasn't mine in the first place. Isn't that fucked up?" 

"..." 

"And that was after I lost my job, so you can probably imagine how depressed I was. Thought about killing myself once or twice, but I powered through my shit-show of a life. And then, and _then,_ I got a job offer. They even asked me to start the very next day! It was like a golden light shining through the darkness, a ray of hope that made me think, 'you know, maybe my luck is turning around!' But you know what happened next?" 

_Obviously not..._

"I got hit by a fucking car." 

"..." 

"I bet you're thinking, 'well that sucks, but what does that have to do with Shizu-chan?' See, the thing is... that car? It hit me from _above._ Above! A goddamn fucking car _literally_ fell from the sky. I woke up in the hospital a day later to no job and a pile of medical bills I couldn't afford to pay -- came to find out, the reason that car had been in the sky in the first place was because _someone_ had pissed off the infamous Heiwajima Shizuo. Three guesses who that someone was?" 

_Oops..._

"And if that wasn't bad enough, guess what happened not even a fucking _week_ after I got out of the goddamn hospital?" 

"..." 

"I got a visit from a _debt_ collector. The _same_ debt collector whose goddamn bodyguard happened to be the goddamn reason for my debt in the first place! But did he give me a chance to explain myself before beating me into a goddamn bloody pulp? No. He didn't." 

_Ouch... no wonder he has a grudge._

"But I ended up finding a silver lining in my time in that goddamn hospital bed -- my nurse, Hana. Damn, she was cute... nice, too, and I hadn't been intimate with anyone since before that cheating whore got pregnant with someone else's baby. So I started to flirt -- and, to my surprise, she started to flirt back! By the time I recovered enough to leave the hospital, I had her number _and_ a date lined up." 

_How auspicious._

"There was just one problem -- I didn't have any goddamn money. I'd gone through all my savings already, and my asshole of a landlord didn't give a shit about the fact that I'd been in the hospital. On top of that, there was a good chance I was gonna get another visit from that debt collector soon; if I didn't find a way to get Heiwajima out of my fucking life, it was never gonna get any better. So I asked around, seeing if anyone knew anything about him... and then somebody mentioned you. Told me you hated him, wanted him dead -- I figured, 'hey, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?'" He went back to circling him threateningly. "But did that matter to you? No, it didn't. You refused to help me unless I _paid_ you. But I didn't have any money! So you know what I did? I swallowed my pride, got down on my goddamn knees, and begged. Eventually, I got you to agree -- on one condition. Do you remember what that condition was?" 

_I don't even remember who **you** are..._

"That 'condition' was to rob a fucking bank. Not just any bank, either... noooo, it had to be one of those big banks, the fancy ones with the tellers that looked at you like you were gum on the bottom of their shoe. And the worst part was, I was so desperate, I actually fucking _agreed_ to it." 

"..." 

"But did you keep your end of the bargain? No, you fucking didn't. I hadn't even been in that bank for more than a minute before the cops showed up; do you have _any_ idea how fucking humiliating it is to be arrested in public? No, you probably don't, do you? You're just like those goddamn bank tellers... you think you're so much better than some pathetic nobody like me, right?" 

_Your words, not mine..._

"My prison sentence wasn't very long, but it didn't have to be -- see this ski mask?" He came back around to once more crouch down in front of the smaller man. "How about I show you what's under it, huh?" 

The moment the mask came off, Izaya's eyes widened and he reflexively tried (unsuccessfully, considering) to lean away from his kidnapper. The man's face looked like melted clay, as if someone had splashed acid or boiling water onto it; to call it grotesque would be an understatement, just the sight of it making him nauseous. 

"I know. Ugly, right? I think it goes without saying that I haven't had a lot of luck with the ladies lately. I'm gonna be nice and take that gag off of you, okay?" He leaned in closer to him, reaching around behind his head so he could undo the buckle. Tossing the gag to the side, the man turned back to him and grinned. "Now... why don't you show me your appreciation by giving me a little kiss?" 

With the gag out of his mouth, there were a million ways Izaya could have told him to fuck off... 

He settled for spitting in his face.


	5. Not-so-Precious Moments

If there was one thing anyone who'd ever met Izaya Orihara could agree on, it was that he was neither stupid _nor_ naive. With the amount of enemies he'd made throughout the years, it would have been impossible for him to survive otherwise; he had to be able to either outwit or outrun his opponent, and that meant being patient, calculating, detached. The only person who had ever been able to make him angry enough to lash out was the monster, and even then he was able to at least stay calm enough to _pretend_ like he was having the time of his life; but right now he was at an overwhelming disadvantage, and that was making it particularly difficult for him to successfully manage his emotions. Spitting in his kidnapper's face might not have been the _smartest_ thing he could have done.

While Izaya was expecting the man to retaliate somehow (maybe with a punch or a kick or some other act of violence), all he actually did was grin wider and wipe his face off with his sleeve. "Well... aren't _you_ feisty?" He commented, sounding more amused than upset. "I wonder how long that'll last?" 

"Until I'm dead and buried, Kidnapper-san." He retorted, not even a hint of a smile on his face. "So why don't you just do us both a favor and get it over with? Your diatribes are starting to bore me." 

"'Kidnapper-san?'" He echoed, a slight edge to his voice. "You don't remember my name, do you?" 

_I don't even remember **meeting** you..._

"It's not as if you're exactly easy to recognize." Izaya watched warily as the man straightened up and pulled a pack of menthol cigarettes out of his pocket, plucking one out so he could bring it to his lips and light it. 

"My name..." He began, taking a deep inhale of nicotine. "...is Sato Hiro." He exhaled, making a point to do so directly into Izaya's face. "Got it?" 

The smoke caused the smaller man to cough violently, the ropes biting into his flesh. "What exactly... are you trying to accomplish?" He eventually managed to ask. 

"What, wasn't I obvious? I want _revenge_ , Orihara-san." 

"Yes, yes, that much is clear -- but the way you were talking earlier made it seem like _Shizuo_ was your intended target, not me. Unless I misunderstood?" 

"You didn't." Hiro told him, smiling in a way that made his skin crawl. Taking another drag, he turned and headed in the direction of the exit. "I'll be right back -- don't go anywhere." 

"I'll try my best, but I'm not making any promises." Izaya replied sarcastically. Hiro simply chuckled, the creak of old wood accompanying the sound of the door opening and closing. 

_Shit..._

He let out a shaky breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. This situation was Not Good. This situation was Very Very _Bad..._ if he didn't find a way out of this soon, a little second-hand smoke was going to be the least of his worries. 

_Shit shit shit!_

He couldn't think of a time he'd ever felt this helpless before; in a very real sense, he was at Hiro's mercy... something he was fairly certain had stopped existing a long time ago. 

_Shit shit shit shit **shit!**_

He heard the sound of the door opening again, barely able to turn his head enough to see Hiro walking towards him with an open bottle of sake in one hand and a large duffelbag in the other. "Hello again." He said, dropping the duffelbag on the floor. "You thirsty?" 

"Not particularly." It was a lie, but Izaya had an embarrassingly low alcohol tolerance and he'd much rather be dehydrated than drunk. 

"Well, too bad. You and me are gonna be drinking buddies." He said, taking a swig from the bottle before pressing it to Izaya's lips and pinching his nostrils. Unable to breathe through his nose, he couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than a few seconds; the moment he opened it to gasp for air, Hiro shoved the bottle in and tilted it forward until he started to choke and splutter on the lukewarm liquid. He didn't take it back out until he was absolutely certain Izaya had swallowed enough of it to satisfy him, settling down on the floor in front of him. "So. You want to know why I kidnapped you, is that right?" 

"I want to know how kidnapping me is supposed to help you get back at Shizu-chan. You might as well be doing him a service." 

"You think so?" 

"I _know_ so." Shizuo hated him more than anything; always had, always would, no matter how much he used to want otherwise. "He wants me _dead."_

"I heard you two went to high school together. That true?" 

"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything." 

"How old are you now? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?" 

"Twenty-four." 

"So, assuming you started high school when you were fifteen, that's almost an entire decade he's had to kill you -- yet here you are, still alive and well. Tell me, if he really wanted you out of his life, why hasn't he just broken into your apartment in the middle of the night and strangled you to death?" 

"Because _that_ would require at least a modicum of critical thinking, and in case you haven't noticed, Shizu-chan isn't very smart." 

"It doesn't take a genius to kick down someone's door and murder them in their sleep... all it takes is a little motivation, and if he hated you half as much as everyone says he does, he should have that in droves." Hiro gulped down a few more swallows of sake, releasing a big, boozey burp that Izaya could smell from his spot in the chair. 

_Disgusting._

"Then tell me, _Kidnapper-san..."_ Izaya began, purposefully choosing not to use the other's name. "If it's not hate, what is it?" 

"Well, obviously..." Hiro pushed himself to his feet so he could loom menacingly over the smaller man, bringing his face far too close for comfort. "It's _love."_

For a second, there was silence -- but that silence didn't last long, the sheer ridiculousness of the man's suggestion causing Izaya to burst out into a fit of laughter. That, however, didn't last long either -- he soon found himself once more choking on the bottle of sake, Hiro having forced it into his mouth in order to shut him up. "I don't like being laughed at, Orihara-san." He informed him, his expression unreadable. "It reminds me too much of prison." This time he waited until the bottle was empty to remove it, tossing it at the wall and watching it shatter. 

_Oh no..._

Izaya felt like he was going to be sick, his anxiety mixing with the alcohol to make him nauseatingly dizzy; thankfully, he was able to keep himself from vomiting. "Look, I don't know where you got the idea that Shizuo is in love with me -- " 

"The Dollars forum, believe it or not. Did you know _anyone_ can join that gang? Their leader must not be very bright." 

" -- but the fact that you actually believe it tells me that you are either insane, desperate, or an even bigger idiot than Shizuo is." He finished. 

"Yeah, well, believing it makes things more convenient for me." He went over to the duffel bag and dug through it until he found a pair of pliers. 

"What do you mean 'it makes things more convenient'?" 

"You know, 'two birds, one stone' and all that." He came back over to Izaya and kneeled down next to him, taking a hold of his left hand. "This is going to hurt." 

"Wait, what are you doing? Don't -- _AHH!"_ Izaya gasped in pain, blood dripping from where his left pinky nail had been. "What the _hell_ was that for?" He'd lost a nail on accident before, but he didn't remember it hurting anywhere _near_ this bad. 

"In a second, I'm going to untie you." Hiro informed him, tossing Izaya's nail onto the basement's already-dirty floor. "If you try to escape, attack me, or do anything I don't like, you'll lose another. This will continue until you run out of nails... after that, I switch to teeth. Understand?" 

Swallowing thickly, Izaya nodded. 

"Good boy." Hiro said, once more leaning in close. "Now..." 

"...how 'bout that kiss?"


	6. Devolution

Up until recently, Hiro Sato had never been the kind of person that stood out. He'd always just been so completely, absolutely _average_ \-- average family, average grades, average looks, average build, average tastes, average personality, average, average, _average._ The first time he'd ever felt differently was when he'd met Yuki; she'd been the first woman to ever really look at him as anything other than an 'extra' in the mental motion picture of her life, as well as the first person in general that was able to make him feel even the slightest bit special... that's why, when she'd agreed to marry him, he'd been so elated that he hadn't been able to sleep that night.

When they'd finally had sex for the first time, it was like Hiro had died and gone to Heaven. He'd never even kissed a woman before Yuki; it had felt so good to be intimate with someone that he'd barely lasted five minutes, a fact that would have embarrassed him had Yuki ever bothered to mention it -- but she never did. At the time, he'd thought it was because she loved him... now, he didn't know what to think. 

He did, however, know that he was having much more fun fucking with Izaya Orihara than he'd expected. "I'm kidding, kidding!" He said, bringing his hands up in a mocking gesture of peace. "You should have seen the look on your face -- priceless!" 

Rather than looking relieved, the informant just looked even more anxious; it occured to Hiro that this might very well be the first time anyone other than Heiwajima had been able to gain such a drastic advantage over him, and he couldn't help but feel a little rush of satisfaction knowing that he'd been able to out-fox the fox himself. Instead of using that as a chance to gloat, however, he decided to simply continue carrying out his previously stated intention. Untying his legs first and his arms second, Hiro firmly gripped Izaya's wrist and yanked him to his feet. "Now, how 'bout we kick things up a notch, huh?" He shoved him in the direction of one of the walls, Izaya barely able to put his hands out in time to stop himself from smashing into it face-first. 

_Ugh..._

The room felt like it was spinning; Izaya didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to keep from vomiting, let alone keep standing. 

_This is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is --_

"Are you alright, Orihara-san? You don't look so well." Hiro didn't even bother to try and sound concerned. "You're not going to be sick, are you?" 

"Not if you put the ski mask back on." 

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood." Hiro stated, narrowing his eyes. "But if you're not careful, I'm going to run out of patience... and once that happens, no amount of luck is going to be able to help you." 

"You don't scare me." Izaya said, glaring. 

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" Hiro scoffed, taking a step towards him. "Look at you... you're sweating like a pig, and your legs look like they could give out at any moment. Who are you trying to fool -- me, or yourself?" He asked, feeling more than a little pleased when he took another step forward and the other man instinctively tried (and failed) to take a step back, having temporarily forgotten that there was a wall behind him. 

_Shit!_

"Do you believe in miracles, Orihara-san?" 

"Why do you ask?" 

"Well..." Hiro went back over to the duffel bag and started to dig through it again. "You can't run, you can't hide, you can't fight -- and, let's face it..." He found what he was looking for, turning back to the other man. "...the chances of anyone even _wanting_ to come to your rescue is slim, let alone anyone actually succeeding. So, I'll ask again... do you believe in miracles, Orihara-san?" 

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, how about you go to hell?" He suggested, a sardonic smile on his face. 

"You know, I'd really rather not." Hiro replied. "Though chances are I'll end up there eventually." Bending down, Hiro slid a small, metal object over towards Izaya. "That's yours, right? Pick it up." 

Blinking down at the object, Izaya was surprised to recognize it as his switchblade. He didn't remember having it in his pocket -- had Hiro gone through his belongings before leaving his apartment? Just the thought of having his privacy invaded like that made him shudder. Watching his captor out of the corner of his eye, he crouched down and wrapped his fingers around the knife. He'd expected its weight to be relieving, perhaps even comforting -- but Hiro wasn't stupid, so he couldn't stop thinking that this was some sort of trick meant to get him to let his guard down. "Is there any particular reason you're giving me this?" He flicked it open, poking the tip with his finger to make sure it hadn't been purposefully dulled, or some other sort of sabatoge meant to make it useless as a weapon. 

"If it's too easy, it won't be any fun." 

"If _what's_ too easy?" Izaya asked demandingly, his grip on the knife tightening. 

"Are you a virgin, Orihara-san?" 

The question caught him off-guard. "Excuse me?" 

"You heard me. Are you?" 

"I don't really see how that's any of your business." Izaya snapped, feeling even more uncomfortable than he already was (which was saying something, considering the fact that he was far more uncomfortable than he'd ever been in his entire life). 

"That's because you're in denial." His hackles raised, Izaya instinctively shifted into a defensive stance when Hiro once more began to walk towards him. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, raising his switchblade so he could point it at him threateningly. 

Hiro sighed in mock disappointment. "Come on, Orihara-san. You're a smart man; I really shouldn't have to explain it to you." 

Before Hiro can close in on him, Izaya suddenly lunged forward. The other man easily dodged out of the way -- but that was exactly what Izaya'd been hoping he would do, using the opening to dart towards the only door... 

...only to find it locked. 

_Damn it..._

Hiro laughed. "What's wrong, Orihara-san? You didn't think you were going to get away that easy, did -- !" Before he could finish, Izaya lashed out with all his strength, just barely missing his kidnapper's jugular. 

_Damn it! I wasn't fast enough!_

He did his best attempt at a roll to stop himself from falling flat on his face, only to immediately regret it when his nausea chose that exact moment to remind him of its presence. Too busy trying not to puke, Izaya didn't notice Hiro reaching for him until it was too late; grabbing his arm, he twisted it behind his back, causing him to reflexively let go of the knife. Kicking it away, Hiro pushed Izaya up against the wall, using his weight to keep him pinned. "Do you remember what I said about luck, Orihara-san?" He whispered into his ear, his breath hot on his skin. 

_Oh no, oh no, oh no no no no no..._

"Get the hell off of me!" His panic finally taking over, Izaya struggled uselessly against the other's grasp. Being kidnapped, he could handle. Being taunted, ridiculed, and forced to get drunk? He could handle that, too. He could even handle having his nail ripped off... but there was a limit to what he could deal with, and if Hiro was insinuating what he _suspected_ he was insinuating... 

...well, to say he was terrified would be an understatement.


	7. Bullseye

Shizuo Heiwajima had a secret.

The very _fact_ that he had a secret was stressful enough; he'd always believed in being honest and forthright, so to him, keeping a secret wasn't much better than telling an outright lie -- and he hated, hated, _hated_ liars (himself no exception). He was so ashamed of the truth that even Kasuka didn't know about it, and that was saying something, because there wasn't a single person on this entire planet he trusted more than his little brother. He'd thought (hoped, really) that if he just didn't act on it, if he just _ignored_ it, it would eventually go away on its own... 

He couldn't have been more wrong. 

"Unfortunately, Celty, whether it's true or not is irrelevant. As long as he continues to operate under the assumption that it is, Orihara-kun is in an even worse position than he would be otherwise; men like Hiro are willing to do nasty, nasty things if they think it'll get their point across, _especially_ when they've been drinking... there's a good chance he fully intends to r -- " 

_**SMASH!**_

Startled, Shinra whipped around to look at his friend, noticing his fist sticking out the back of his computer screen; but he cared less about that than he did the expression on Shizuo's face, the other man seeming like he couldn't decide whether to laugh, cry, or scream. "...Shizuo-kun?" 

"I'll kill him." Whether he was shaking from anger or fear, Shinra couldn't tell... he supposed it could be a bit of both."I will, I really will... I'll fucking take that ugly fucking face of his and bash it against the wall until he's fucking _begging_ me to put him out of his goddamn misery..." Looking like he was about to explode, Shizuo took his phone out of his pocket -- realizing what he was about to do, Shinra decided it best to try and stop him before he caused the situation to escalate. 

_"Shizuo-kun."_

"What do you want, Shinra?" He snapped, his fingers hovering over the keypad. 

_I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill him, I'm going to kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill..._

"I neither know nor care whether you love Orihara-kun, hate Orihara-kun, or some strange combination of the two... but what I _do_ know is that if you give that man even the _slightest_ hint that his plan is succeeding, I guarantee he will take it as a sign to continue. Is that what you want?" 

"Of _course_ it's not what I want, Shinra!" His teeth grit, Shizuo had to use every last ounce of his willpower not to crush his phone out of sheer frustration. "I _want_ to fucking kill him!" 

"And in order to do _that,_ you have to find him first." 

"Then let's find him!" 

"That's easier said than done, Shizuo-kun... for all we know, he might not even be in this prefecture." 

"So what do we do, huh? How do we figure it out?" 

"To be honest with you, I have no idea. My normal method of information-gathering is, unfortunately, not available as an option." 

"Why not, what's your normal method?" 

"Asking Izaya." He responded flatly. 

"Fuck..." Shizuo collapsed on the couch, running his hands through his hair. This was starting to feel like a nightmare made real. "What about the Dollars? Could one of them know what to do?" 

[I've been checking the website periodically, but the only thing anyone's been able to figure out is that he's using multiple proxy servers.] 

"Unsurprising, but not very reassuring." Shinra commented. 

[Yeah...] 

"So what do we do now, huh?" Shizuo asked demandingly. "What the _hell_ do we do?" 

"The only thing we can do. We wait." 

_"Wait?"_ Shizuo repeated. "Are you fucking serious? You want me to _wait?"_

At this point, it was fairly obvious to both Celty _and_ Shinra that Hiro Sato had, in an unfortunate twist of fate, somehow been able to guess a truth most people refused to even consider. It was the equivalent of throwing darts in the dark and still managing to get a bullseye; risky, uncertain, and most likely due to nothing more than blind luck. "Look, Shizuo-kun -- " Before he could say anything else, he was distracted by the sight of Celty suddenly and frantically waving her cellphone in his direction. "What, what is it?" Curious, Shinra moved closer so he could view the screen; his eyes widening, he adjusted his glasses and double-checked to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. "Is that a _map?"_

"A _map?"_ Shizuo immediately joined Shinra in staring at the screen. "Is that Chiba?!" 

Celty nodded. [Mikado sent me the coordinates for a neighborhood in Inzai. He says Izaya is most likely being kept in the basement of one of the houses there!] 

"Then let's go!" Shizuo was finding it difficult to stay still. The sooner he killed that crazy son of a bitch, the sooner he'd be able to relax. 

"Did Mikado-kun say where he got that information? It's a little too convenient for me not to be suspicious." Shinra said, having no desire to walk into a trap. 

[No, he wouldn't tell me. All he said is that his source 'wished us luck.'] 

"That's not very helpful. I don't like the idea of -- " 

"Damn it, Shinra! We don't have fucking time for this!" 

"Shizuo, we don't even know which house he's actually in -- " 

"Then I'll just kick down every single door until we find him!" 

Realizing he wasn't going to be able to change the other man's mind, Shinra sighed. "Chiba is at least an hour's drive from here -- Celty, how much time do you think it would take Shooter to fly us there?" An hour gave Hiro too much time to make good on his intentions; if they didn't get there as soon as possible, they could very well end up being too late to do anything. 

[Fifteen minutes at least, thirty at most.] 

"Let's try for fifteen. Let me get my things, I'll meet you outside." Shinra told her, rushing over to the hall closet so he could retrieve his medical bag. He was about to run to catch up with the other two when a sickening thought caused him to turn back to the closet, reaching into it so he could grab a hold of his phlebotomy kit. 

_Just in case..._

"Oi, Shinra, hurry up!" Shizuo shouted. 

"Coming!" Placing the kit inside the larger bag, he made sure he had everything else he might need before hurrying out the front door.


	8. How the Mighty Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance.

It had only been three years since Yuki had left Hiro, but it felt to him like it had been so much longer than that. He couldn't remember exactly when he'd stopped fantasizing about her crawling back to him, desperately begging for both his forgiveness _and_ his cock... but he _did_ remember that it had been right around the time he'd first joined the Dollars. He'd done so because he'd heard that Heiwajima was a member and he'd been hoping that someone would be able to give him some information on how to get rid of him; pretending to be romantically interested, he'd posted a thread asking if anyone knew whether or not 'Heiwajima-kun' happened to have a girlfriend (because if he couldn't hurt him directly, he could at _least_ hurt someone he cared about, right?). Most of the responses were from people asking "her" if she was either: A, a troll; B, confused; or C, insane -- but there had been one response that had stood out from all the rest, a very long, very _vehement_ response from someone who was absolutely convinced that Shizuo Heiwajima was in love with another man...

...and not just _any_ man, either. 

No, this person happened to be convinced that he was in love with the same man he claimed to hate -- the same man who also happened to be the one to teach Hiro just how stupid it was to trust someone who sold secrets for a living. "You know, you never did answer my question..." He murmured against his captive's ear. "And I think I know why... it's 'cause you _are_ a virgin, aren't you? You just don't want to admit it, because you don't want to have to explain why a man like you hasn't had sex yet." 

"A man like me?" Izaya wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, only that it was most likely nothing good; he already couldn't stop trembling, the only thing keeping his legs from giving out being the larger man's body pressing him up against the cold wall. 

"Intelligent, charming, attractive -- you could probably convince a homeless person to give _you_ money -- hell, you could probably convince 'em to give you the clothes off their back, too!" 

"Don't you think you might be exaggerating a little?" Izaya is too uncomfortable to feel even the slightest bit flattered, and is also starting to wonder if revenge actually _was_ his captor's primary motivation... _or_ if it was just an excuse to act on impulses he was too ashamed to admit he had. 

"Not to mention, you're -- how old did you say you were, again? Oh, right. Twenty-four. You're in your _prime_ , kid... you should be spending your time trying to win over the ladies, not tricking middle-aged men into committing felonies. Have you even had your first kiss yet?" Izaya stiffened when he heard the sound of a belt buckle coming undone. 

_Please tell me this isn't actually happening... please tell me that it's just all in my head..._

"Don't wanna answer, do you? I guess I'll take that as a no, then." Using his weight to keep Izaya pinned, Hiro reached around so he could grab the bottom of his hoodie and pull it up and over his head. Waiting to peel it off his arms until he could loop his belt around them, Hiro then slipped the belt down around Izaya's wrists before tightening and buckling it securely. "Now, the only reason I can think of to explain why a young man as good-looking, charismatic, and well-off as you isn't drowning in pussy is because you have no _interest_ in pussy." Flipping him around to face him, Hiro leaned in until their noses were almost touching. "And if you have no interest in pussy, I can't help but wonder what it is you _do_ have interest in..." 

"What I have interest in is the last time you saw a dentist." Izaya replied haughtily, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I think you might have an infection." 

"You know you're not really doing yourself any favors, right?" Hiro narrowed his eyes. For a moment, Izaya thought he'd finally managed to hit a nerve... but then, a chilling smile spread across the other man's face. "But I suppose I can't blame you. I'd probably do the same thing, were I in your position -- I mean, you wouldn't want our audience to think you're _enjoying_ this, would you?" 

It was then that Izaya remembered the camera. 

_He's bluffing, he's bluffing, please let him be bluffing. He's bluffing, he **has** to be bluffing, **please** let him be bluffing..._

"Holy shit, your face just got _super_ fucking red -- you didn't forget I was streaming this, did you?" By the way he grinned you'd think that was the most amusing thing Hiro had ever heard. "Come on, don't be embarrassed; it's not like you've got anything to hide, right?" He decided to prove his point by pinching the other man's now-exposed nipples, causing him to wince. "Aw, I'm sorry... did that hurt?" 

"Go to hell, you disgusting piece of pig -- _shit!"_ Hiro had roughly twisted the sensitive nubs, earning him an indignant glare from the helpless informant. 

"I'm starting to think you still don't fully understand your position." He commented, leaning in even closer. "So allow me to explain it to you -- I am going to do horrible, horrible things to you." He spoke as casually as if he was discussing the weather. "And not only will _you_ be unable to stop me, neither will any of the thousands upon thousands of people too morbidly curious not to watch every last second of it." 

"It would have been kinder just to kill me." Izaya said, not a hint of humor in his voice. The more Hiro talked, the more convinced he became that the only reason the other man had been able to accept the idea of there being homoerotic tension between him and the monster so easily was because he had been subconsciously looking for it. 

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if you noticed..." Giving no prior warning, Hiro grabbed Izaya by the hair and threw him to the ground. "But I am not a kind man." 

His hands bound behind his back, Izaya was lucky he was able to land on his side rather than on his face. Unfortunately, he was even more dizzy now than he'd been before; he didn't even have enough coordination to sit back up, let alone stand or fight. If he believed in a god, this would be about the time he'd start to pray. "You don't say?" He remarked through grit teeth, his sarcasm his only weapon left. 

"It's cute that you're trying to act tough..." Hiro began, stepping over him so he could go back to the duffel bag and once more rifle through it. "But I think you're underestimating just how far I'm willing to go." 

_I highly doubt that..._

In truth, it was _because_ Izaya was intimidated that he couldn't keep his mouth shut. "And _I_ think you're underestimating just how much I can take." 

"Oh yeah? Then how about we make a deal?" He straightened up and turned back towards him, Izaya unable to tell if he'd actually taken anything out of the bag or not. "If you're still sane by the time I'm done with you, I'll let you go." 

Izaya didn't at all like the implication that he wouldn't be. "Just for curiosity's sake, what will happen if I'm not?" He inquired, despite being ninety-percent certain that he didn't actually want to know. 

"Whatever I want, whenever I want, for as long as I want." Hiro answered, straddling his stomach. By the time Izaya realized he had a pair of wooden clothespins in his hands, they had already been clipped to both of his too-tender nipples; flicking one of them cruelly, Hiro chuckled when he saw how close to tears the humiliated broker was... and he'd barely even started yet. 

"You're really getting off on this, aren't you?" Izaya asked, his voice a mix of pain and disgust. He used to think it was impossible for him to hate anyone more than Shizuo -- but at this point, there was nothing he wanted more than to take a knife and stab Hiro in the face so many times that it would make Norman Bates look like a well-adjusted human being. 

"You have no idea." Hiro responded, his gaze raking over the other's naked torso. For a man in his mid-20's, Izaya was unnaturally small; it wasn't that he was short for his age (he was, just not enough to break any records) so much as he was delicate -- Hiro had seen 12-year-old girls with more muscle than him. Scooting back a little, his hands shook from excitement as he pulled down Izaya's shorts to reveal a pair of plain black briefs. "Has anyone ever told you that you have nice thighs?" He asked, squeezing the soft flesh before slapping it hard enough to leave a smarting red hand-print. "You know, I can't help but wonder if anyone's jacking off to this. I can't be the only person you've made a fool of, right?" 

At this point, Izaya didn't know whether he wanted to laugh, cry, or scream... he was completely powerless, and it wasn't even Shizuo who had managed to make him this way. 

_I want to die. I absolutely, positively want to die. I wonder how angry I'd have to make him to get him to kill me..._

"Considering the fact that the mere sight of your face could make a cockroach want to drown itself in bleach, I highly doubt anyone other than you would even be able to get it -- _mmph!"_ Hiro had opted to shut his victim up by smashing their mouths together, the feel of his warm, wet tongue worming its way in-between his lips making Izaya want to be sick. Right when he thought he was about to pass out from lack of air, Hiro disconnected with a loud smack. 

"You should really quit while you're behind, Orihara-san." He informed him breathlessly, getting to his feet before reaching down and once more grabbing Izaya by the hair. Using it to yank the smaller man up onto his knees, Hiro hastily unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out of his boxers. Immediately guessing what his captor was about to do, Izaya had no choice but to let his instincts take over; instead of trying to jerk away, he chose to head-butt Hiro in the stomach as hard as he could -- the other man reflexively letting go as he doubled over in pain, Izaya allowed himself no time to think about how badly the room was spinning while he aimed a kick directly at one of Hiro's kneecaps. Unfortunately for him, Hiro's reaction time wasn't nearly as impaired as his was; too slow to retract his leg quickly enough, he was unable to stop the other man from grabbing it and using it to drag him back towards him. 

"I can't wait until you're begging me for mercy." Hiro sneered, picking up one of his heavy booted feet so he could aim a kick of his own at Izaya's side. Wheezing from the impact, Izaya wasn't able to recover in time to do anything to stop the larger man from crawling on top of him and once more crushing their lips together; trying desperately to free his hands, all he actually ended up succeeding in doing was rubbing the skin of his wrists raw. 

_No no no no no, this isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening..._

Unlike Izaya, Hiro was having the time of his life. It felt intoxicatingly good to have this much power over another man (especially one like Izaya, who was everything Hiro wasn't and _had_ everything Hiro didn't) -- he was more aroused than he'd been in years, all of the blood rushing straight to his groin. Purposefully making the kiss as intrusive and unpleasant as he possibly could for the man struggling beneath him, Hiro yanked off Izaya's underwear and pushed his legs up over his head; not even bothering to warn him first, he started to try and force himself inside of the other man... 'try' being the key word. "Come on, damn it... if you don't loosen up a little, it ain't gonna fit." 

_No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no --_

"Please don't do this." Izaya implored, his voice catching in his throat. 

Hiro showed no signs of even hearing him, grunting as he gripped his hips and pressed against his opening harder and harder until the head of his cock finally managed to penetrate the tight ring of muscle. "Theeeeere we go..." He paused to catch his breath, the smaller man not nearly loose enough for him to enter all at once. "See, this isn't so bad, is it?" He breathed, despite the visible agony on the other man's face. 

"Hgh..." The pain was so intense that Izaya could barely think, let alone answer; tears started to stream from his bloodshot eyes, but they didn't sting his cheek half as much as the shame did. 

_I want to die, I want to die, I want to die --_

"And I thought my whore of a wife had been tight..." Hiro commented, still not all the way in. "You know, I never did figure out how long she'd been cheating on me -- for all I know, I could have been a fucking cuck from the start." Spurred on by his hate for her, he pushed even harder until he was finally completely sheathed. 

_It hurts, it hurts, I want to die, it hurts..._

The only silver lining was that his vision had grown too hazy for him to see any of the detail on Hiro's melted face. In fact, his vision had grown too hazy for him to see much of anything at all -- his external and internal worlds were starting to bleed together, everything becoming one big, blurry mess of overwhelming shame and despair. He could hear Hiro saying something to him (could even see his mouth move), but he couldn't make sense of any of it... he barely had enough energy to keep his eyes open, and even that wasn't likely to last for very much longer. Choking back a sob of defeat, Izaya closed his eyes and let go of everything.


	9. Doloroso

"Damn it, which fucking one _is_ it?!" Shizuo smashed his fist against the wall of the house they had just finished checking, bits and pieces of the porch ceiling falling on his head as the entire building shook violently from the impact. He was so frustrated that he wanted to cry; it felt like they'd been searching this goddamn neighborhood for hours now, but none of the homes they'd investigated so far had any sign of the two men they were trying to find -- and nobody that lived in the area remembered seeing anything suspicious within the last 24 hours. It was starting to feel hopeless.

"There are only a few homes left on this block. If we don't find him in one of those, it's likely that we won't find him at all... at least, not in time to stop Hiro from -- well, you know." Shinra did not consider himself a squeamish person (in his profession, you couldn't be), but even he didn't enjoy thinking about what Hiro was planning to do... besides, he didn't think Shizuo was in a mental place where just hearing the word wouldn't send him into a frenzy. 

"So what the fuck are we supposed to do, huh?" Shizuo demanded, his entire body shaking from a mix of rage and panic. He couldn't stop obsessing over the "what if's" of the situation: what if they _were_ too late? What if, by the time they got there, that sick fuck had already had his way and _then_ some? What if this wasn't even the right area? What if this was just a distraction, a trick meant to keep them busy while Hiro engaged in his sadistic fucking fantasies? 

He felt like he was going to be sick. 

"For now, we keep looking. If he _is_ in one of these houses, there's no way we won't find him." 

Despite how calm Shinra seemed, Celty could tell that Shizuo wasn't the only one he was hoping to reassure. He liked to pretend that he didn't care about anyone but her, but she knew better... other than her, his friends were the closest thing he had to family (well, there was also his father -- but their relationship was rocky at best). Besides, only a complete and utter sociopath could look at this situation and think it was anything other than absolutely horrifying... she didn't even _like_ Izaya, but she was still more scared for him than she had _ever_ been for herself. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach... an uncomfortable, yet strangely _familiar_ feeling that pulled at her like a magnet, drawing her attention to a house at the very end of the block. She started to walk towards it, the feeling growing stronger and stronger with each step; when she finally realized what it might be, she wasted no time in hopping onto Shooter and driving up besides the two men. [Get on, now!] 

Neither of them even bothered to ask why, Shinra climbing into Shooter's sidecar so that Shizuo could have the other actual seat. As much as he would have loved to have an excuse to wrap his arms around the love of his life and hold on tight (especially right now, when he couldn't stop thinking about how he'd feel if he were in Shizuo's shoes), the sidecar was awkward to get in and out of and he doubted Shizuo had the patience (or time, for that matter) to deal with that at the moment. 

As soon as both Shinra and Shizuo were ready, Celty revved her steed's eerily silent engine and took off speeding in the direction of the corner house. She didn't even stop when they were a second away from crashing into the front door, instead using her scythe to slice through it like paper. While Shizuo didn't seem at all perturbed by the almost-collision, Shinra was very glad that his bladder had already been empty. It wasn't until they'd reached the kitchen that Celty finally came to a halt, immediately jumping off of the bike so she could start searching for a way to get down to the basement. Realizing that the feeling seemed to be strongest near a closed door at the very back of the house, she opened it to find a set of stairs leading down to yet another closed door. 

_He's definitely down there..._

She was about to inform them of that when Shizuo pushed past her, not needing to be told to know what she was going to say. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he grabbed hold of the doorknob and used it to yank the whole entire thing off of its hinges... only to be greeted by the sight of an incredibly surprised Hiro on top of a naked, unconscious Izaya. The shocked man didn't even have enough time to scream before Shizuo could grab his head and bash it against the hard floor, red clouding his vision as he channeled all of his fury into his fists and began to punch the disgusting bastard over and over and over again until there was nothing left that even slightly resembled a human being. 

_Die, die, die, die, die!_

When Shinra was finally close enough to see through the open doorway, it took him a second to process the scene before him. It looked like something out of a horror movie... the entire room had been splattered in a bloody, pulpy mess that Shinra was fairly certain used to be Hiro, a shaking Shizuo kneeling in the middle of it with angry tears streaming down his cheeks. A few feet away laid Izaya, who had been stripped bare and covered in nasty bruises, vicious bite wounds, and various bodily fluids; Shinra had to force himself to move, rushing over to him so he could check his pulse. "Oh, thank god." He breathed -- it was weak, but it was still there. 

[Shinra, we need to hurry.] Celty told him. Izaya was on borrowed time; it was only by sheer instinct that she'd managed to "freeze" him before he could slip, her lack of memories (thankfully) doing nothing to hinder her magical capabilities. 

"Believe me, I'm aware." Shinra informed her, his hands trembling as he opened up his medical bag and dug through it for his suture kit, a box of alcohol wipes, and a package of hospital-grade bandages. In all his years as an underground doctor, he'd never encountered a single situation even a tenth as disturbing as the one he was in right now. 

_Please, please, please let me be able to make a difference..._

Pulling on a pair of surgical gloves, he took a deep breath and got to work doing everything he could to keep his friend alive.


	10. Hollow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, this is NOT the final chapter.

When Izaya's tired, bloodshot eyes finally opened again, he found himself immediately squeezing them shut once more due to a bright, glaring light that made it hurt too much to even try to keep them open. It didn't help that he had the worst headache of his life, the splitting pain reminding him of the Greek myth about the birth of the war goddess Athena; it made it hard to think, his brain throbbing any time he attempted to focus.

_I think I'm gonna puke..._

It wasn't until he went to push himself up into a sitting position that he realized his hands were unbound... _and_ that he was no longer laying on the dirty, uncomfortable floor of Hiro's little 'dungeon'. 

_Have I... been rescued?_

Forcing his eyes to open -- and _stay_ open -- Izaya took a moment to assess the current situation. His vision was still a bit too blurry for him to make out much detail, but he didn't need to be able to see clearly to recognize his own bedroom (the glaring light having come from the sun shining in through his window). He did, however, need to rub his eyes and blink a few times when he noticed what seemed to be a snoring Shizuo passed out in the leather sofa chair Izaya'd bought himself for his birthday a few years back; at first he thought it must be a delusion, a way to escape the nightmare that was his true reality -- but if that was the case, he shouldn't be in half as much pain as he was right now. His hand trembling, he reached out and tentatively brushed his fingers against the other man's cheek. He was relieved to find it warm and solid underneath his touch, though that relief was quickly replaced with confusion when he saw how red and puffy the skin around the sleeping blonde's eyes were. If it were anyone else, Izaya would have assumed they'd been crying -- but this was Shizuo, and Izaya found it hard to believe that he'd be able to shed even a _single_ tear for the "annoying flea" he hated so much, let alone enough to make him look like he'd managed to contract a rather severe case of conjunctivitis. 

_Maybe Hiro was right..._

It would be ironic, if that were the case. Izaya had never _once_ allowed himself to entertain the idea of him and Shizuo being anything more than bitter enemies (unless you counted the hate-sex fantasies, which he didn't), so if he were to find out that Shizuo felt the same way only _after_ having his virginity forcefully taken from him by a disfigured pervert with a grudge, it would be irony of Shakespearean proportions. 

_It should have been you. It would have been fine if it was you...._

A knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts, the doorknob turning a second later so a particularly exhausted-looking Namie could poke her head in. "Oh, thank goodness. You're awake." 

"Unfortunately." He muttered under his breath. "How long have I been out?" 

If Namie heard his mumbled remark, she didn't show it. "A little over thirty-seven hours. I took over for Kishitani-sensei after the first twenty-four." She entered the room, going around to the side of the bed opposite the sleeping man so she could dig through a leather doctor's bag for a thermometer, stethoscope, and a blood-pressure cuff. Setting those aside, she dug through it again, this time pulling out a few packs of sterilized bandages, a package of alcohol wipes, and a tube of generic first aid ointment. "I need your wrist." 

He held it out to her, watching with a sort of numb curiosity as she carefully removed the bandages that were already on it and dropped them into the waste-basket he kept by his bed. "How long has _he_ been here?" He nodded in Shizuo's direction. 

"A little over thirty-seven hours, just like you. He's been awake for most of it, but I suppose it was just a matter of time before he stopped being able to keep his eyes open." She finished cleaning and rewrapping his wrist, holding her hand out for the other one. It was only then that Izaya noticed she was shaking. 

"Is something wrong, Namie-san?" 

"..." 

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can bandage myself. You can even take the rest of the day off, if you like." 

The look she gave him was unlike any he'd seen her make before; equal parts concern, disbelief, and guilt, it was such an incredibly human expression that it made his heart hurt. 

"What? What is it?" 

"I let him in." Her words sounded strained, as if she was finding it difficult to get them out. "I knew there was something off about him, but he said he had an appointment so I... I should have made him wait outside. The moment I turned my back, he -- " 

"Such interesting faces Namie-san is making!" Izaya interrupted, uncomfortable with his secretary's uncharacteristically sensitive behavior. He neither needed nor wanted sympathy; Namie may have been the one that let Hiro in, but he himself was the one that pushed him over the edge. If anyone was at fault, it was him. 

_What goes around comes around, after all..._

"I need to take your vitals." Namie said flatly, putting on the stethoscope and picking up the blood pressure cuff so she could velcro it around his upper arm. "And when I'm done with that, I'm going to go put the kettle on for tea. You need to eat something, as well -- do you want me to order out?" 

"I'm not hungry." He responded, the thought of having anything in his mouth again not at all attractive... which was why he was particularly unhappy when Namie slipped the thermometer between his lips, the urge to gag nearly overwhelming. Luckily, it wasn't one of the old ones that took forever; putting both the cuff and the thermometer back in the bag, Namie checked both his lungs and his heartbeat before taking off the stethoscope and letting out a deep sigh. 

"Izaya -- " 

"Tea, however, sounds absolutely lovely. Could you be a dear and make sure to close the door behind you on your way out? Please and thank you." 

"..." She regarded him for a minute before letting out another sigh and leaving the room, shutting the door as requested before heading down the steps into the living room. 

The moment he was certain she was out of earshot, Izaya broke. The tears that streamed down his face were hot, burning his cheeks and clouding his vision as his entire body was wracked with silent, angry sobs. He wanted to scream, but he had no desire to wake the sleeping beast. He wished that he had died before anyone had been able to find him -- even non-existence would be better than the hell he was going through. 

_I hate this. I hate this! I HATE THIS!_

"...'zaya?" 

Just the sound of Shizuo's raspy voice was enough to cause Izaya to freeze in place, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to think of something to say. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate; he made a point to avoid the other man at all costs even on a good day, and today was most certainly _not_ a good day... especially when it became mortifyingly obvious that Hiro hadn't been bluffing about the livestream. He couldn't stop worrying about how much the beast had seen -- _or_ what he thinking. "Hello, Shizu-chan. Did you sleep well?" 

Making him feel slightly better was the fact that Shizuo seemed just as lost as he was, his mouth opening and closing in a manner not unlike that of a fish. "I... are you... how do... um..." 

"Was he right?" Izaya asked abruptly, his voice wavering only very slightly. "About why you hadn't killed me yet." 

"I..." Still groggy from his nap, Shizuo was struggling to put his thoughts into words, his fists clenching in frustration. "I... I'm... sorry." He eventually confessed."I am so, so sorry... I..." His voice catching in his throat, he hung his head in shame as tears began to fall from his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- " 

"If you don't stop apologizing, I'm going to jab my fingers into your eye sockets." Izaya informed him, his tone betraying his discomfort. 

"Well what the hell else am I supposed to do then, huh?" Annoyed, Shizuo sniffed and wiped the snot from his nose. 

"You could always just go home." Izaya pointed out. "There's no reason for you to stay here." 

"Like hell there's no reason for me to stay here. _You're_ my reason -- I fucking... I fucking _love_ you, okay?" His voice strained, Shizuo tried desperately to relay how strongly he felt without doing anything that could potentially freak Izaya out. "And you got hurt because of me, so -- " 

"I got hurt because of _me_ , Shizu-chan." Izaya interjected, feeling almost angry at the other man's attempt to take responsibility. "I got hurt because I'm a fucked up human being that toys with other people's lives for no reason other than my own sick, twisted amusement -- or have you suddenly forgotten all of the messed up shit I've done?" 

The look Shizuo gave him then reminded him of the look he'd gotten from Namie after suggesting she take the rest of the day off, the same concern mixed in with the same guilt and disbelief -- only there was something else mixed in too, something he couldn't quite put a finger on that made his heart feel like it was going to break. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"You... actually think you deserved it, don't you?" Shizuo felt sick to his stomach. 

"Hiro's not the first person to try and get even with me -- he's simply the first to succeed. It was only a matter of time, really." 

Shizuo could feel himself starting to get upset -- which is the last thing he wanted to do right now, so he decided it would probably be a good idea to temporarily remove himself from the situation. "I need a cigarette. I'll be back in a bit." He said, not waiting for a response before turning and disappearing out the door. 

Sighing heavily, Izaya laid back down and spread his limbs out, staring morosely up at his bedroom ceiling. 

_I'm never going to be able to recover from this... I can feel it._

Even if Shizuo did love him, the damage was already done -- he might not be dead physically, but the Izaya from before was gone. 

All that was left now was an empty shell.


	11. Denouement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the final chapter nice and long for you guys.

For the first few days or so after Izaya woke up back in his apartment, things were... tense, to say the least. The situation was unpleasant for all who were involved, and that went double for Izaya himself -- he was growing exceedingly frustrated with the way everyone seemed to be walking on egg shells around him, as if they were afraid that the slightest bit of stress would prove too much for his fragile, traumatized mind to handle. It didn't help that he was finding it difficult to perform even simple tasks, his inability to take care of himself causing him no end of problems; he couldn't even stand without help, his legs still too weak to support his frame -- _despite_ the fact that he'd lost a good ten or so pounds due to stress and a complete and utter loss of appetite (both Shinra and Namie had given up on trying to get him to eat anything, and Shizuo was still too shaken to so much as lay a finger on him, let alone try and force-feed him). The only silver lining was that he didn't have to worry about Hiro coming after him again (though now he felt like he owed the beast for taking care of the bastard for him); he couldn't, however, say that the knowledge that Shizuo had quite literally beaten that man to a bloody pulp didn't at least make him feel a _little_ warm and fuzzy on the inside -- he was just disappointed he didn't get to see it himself.

_*BZZT!*_

Frowning, Izaya reached over and picked his cell phone up off of his bedside table. It wasn't the same one he was used to using, unfortunately... his rescuers hadn't thought to look for any of his belongings, and (understandably) he had no desire to go back there to look for it himself. He had settled for using one of his back-ups until he got a new one, which he was in no particular hurry to do, as he'd been making it a point to avoid the internet and the only people who might need to contact him already had this number (with the exception of Shizuo, who didn't really need it anyway due to the fact that he hadn't once left his apartment since he got there). Izaya sighed, debating whether or not he actually wanted to check it; his boredom winning out in the end, he decided to at least see if it was from anyone interesting. Bringing up the new message, he furrowed his brow when he recognized the email address of one of the few people smart enough for him to actually consider them a rival. 

_Tsukumoya? What the hell does he want?_

He opened up the message, a little wary of what the other informant might have to say. After reading the first few sentences, he was relieved to find that his concern had been unwarranted. 

_To: Orihara Izaya_

_Subject: My Apologies_

_I am not generally the type to interfere in the lives of others without incentive, but it seems that even I am not above making exceptions. Unfortunately, there are limits to my capabilities -- limits that get in the way of me being able to offer direct assistance. Due to these limits, I was unable to pinpoint the exact coordinates of the house Sato Hiro had been operating from; the best I could do was provide an approximate area, which meant Heiwajima-san and friends had to search multiple houses before they were able to find you._

_While it is regretful that the attack itself could not be prevented, I have taken the liberty of doing a bit of damage control. It should now be incredibly difficult to locate any photos or videos of the event, and should anyone happen upon some, they'll find themselves with a nasty little virus -- of my own creation, of course. Now, there is **one** part of the stream that I feel compelled to share with you -- I think you might find it... cathartic._

_Oh, and don't worry about payment. Consider this a gift (unless your pride won't allow it, in which case we can discuss suitable recompense when you're further along in your recovery)._

_Best wishes (and I mean that in all sincerity),_

_Tsukumoya Shinichi_

Izaya had never been so glad to hear from a business rival. Since he'd passed out at the beginning of the assault, he wasn't actually aware of what all Hiro might have done to him before his unexpected search party had shown up to put an end to it... and he didn't _want_ to be aware, either, so knowing that he (or anyone else, for that matter) wouldn't accidentally stumble across videos or screenshots of the act took a significant weight off of his weary mind. 

_Now... let's see what was so important about this video that Tsukumoya felt the need to share it with me._

Opening the attachment, it took a second for the video to start playing. The first thing he saw on the screen was Hiro humping his naked, unconscious body with a look of utter ecstasy on his disgusting face -- but just before it got to be too much for him to handle, Izaya saw the door get ripped off its hinges as an enraged Shizuo lunged at a terrified Hiro like a hungry wolf lunging at a cornered rabbit. In mere seconds, his rapist had been splattered all over both the room _and_ its occupants. 

_Holy shit..._

When Shizuo had told him what he'd done, he was still too numb for it to really register. He knew, logically, that Hiro was dead -- but it didn't feel real. Seeing it (even just a recording of it) was enough for it to _really_ sink in. 

Shizuo Heiwajima -- the beast, the monster, the bane of his existence -- had _killed_ a man for him. 

As if on cue, Shizuo chose that moment to knock on the door before opening it and stepping inside. 

_Speak of the devil..._

"You're supposed to wait for an answer first, you know." He commented (though in reality, he was lucky he'd gotten Shizuo to agree to knock at all). 

"Yeah, yeah. How are you feeling?" Shizuo asked, hovering awkwardly near the foot of his bed like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to get any closer. 

"That depends. Are you asking out of courtesy, or do you actually want an answer?" 

"I want an answer." 

"Even if it's not pretty?" 

"Even if it's not pretty." 

"Well, in that case -- I'll be honest with you, Shizu-chan. I feel like absolute, utter _shit._ I can barely feel my legs, let alone use them, and every time I so much as _think_ about eating I remember that bastard's tongue in my mouth and have to do everything in my power not to vomit. And let's not forget the fact that a sizeable chunk of the world's population has now seen me get _literally_ fucked on a live internet broadcast -- but you wanna know what the _worst_ part is?" 

"Only if you want to tell me." 

Izaya raised an eyebrow, not expecting such an agreeable response from the pig-headed blonde. Chuckling dryly, he offered a shaky hand to the other man. "Come here, I'll whisper it to you." 

Hesitating for a second, Shizuo moved closer so he could gingerly accept Izaya's out-stretched hand. It seemed so small compared to his -- he had no idea how it had never once occurred to him that Izaya could be so... _delicate._ Making a point to keep his grip as slack as he possibly could, he allowed Izaya to tug him forward onto the bed until he was close enough for his lips to brush against his ear. _"Not a second goes by where I don't wish it had been you instead."_ He admitted, not missing the way Shizuo immediately stiffened. "I know... it's sick, isn't it?" Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop his voice from cracking slightly. _"I'm_ sick. You should have killed me a long time ago, it would have saved everyone loads of trouble." 

"Yeah, well... if you're sick, then I am all _kinds_ of fucked up." Shizuo informed him, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were starting to turn white. "Because I can't honestly say that if I had thought there was a chance that _anyone_ might want to take you, I _wouldn't_ have had to convince myself not to try and take you first." 

"Well then, Shizu-chan... why didn't you?" 

"Because I'm not a goddamn _rapist_ , Izaya!" Shizuo replied, more than a little exasperated. "I hated myself just for _wanting_ to touch you -- in fact -- wanna know a secret? You like those, right?" 

"Sure, Shizu-chan... tell me a secret." Izaya said, staring into Shizuo's eyes challengingly before turning his head to offer the other his ear. "Here... whisper it into my ear, just like I did you." 

Shizuo swallowed hard as he leaned in close, his heart pounding in his chest; either he was completely misreading the situation, or Izaya was purposefully teasing him. Considering how difficult it already was for him to keep a cool head around the flea, he was kind of hoping it was the former -- in either case, he'd most likely know in a second. _"I've lost count of how many dreams I've had where I snapped and accidentally fucked you to death."_

"How romantic." Izaya remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Damn it, Izaya..." Shizuo just didn't understand how the other man could respond so calmly to such a disturbing confession. "Do you know what I usually did at the end of those dreams? I killed myself. I killed myself, and then when I woke up I was disappointed that I hadn't done it for real." 

Izaya snorted, shaking his head with a sardonic smile on his lips. "And to think I thought we had nothing in common." He said. "The only reason I haven't tried to off myself yet is because doing anything other than sleeping takes too much energy. Besides, with my luck, I'd fuck it up somehow and have to spend the rest of my life in residential care playing Five-Card Draw with lonely geriatrics. Hey, maybe you should do it for me -- how about it, Shizu-chan? Want to help me commit suicide?" 

"That's not fucking _funny_ , flea." 

"I'm not joking." He said, in a way that gave Shizuo the impression that he meant it. 

"I'm not going to kill you, Izaya." 

"Why the hell not?" 

"Because I don't _want_ to, okay?" Shizuo objected, feeling about ready to start pulling his hair out in frustration. "I've never wanted to, I just convinced myself that I did because it was easier than admitting the truth!" 

"Well, if you won't kill me, then what use are you?" Izaya snapped, annoyed with how stubborn the beast was being. 

"More use than you, at the moment!" Shizuo snapped back, immediately regretting it when he saw a flash of distress in the brunette's eyes. "Shit, I -- " 

"Shut up, Shizu-chan." 

"I -- " 

"I _said_ shut _up."_ Izaya interrupted, having no patience left for Shizuo's self-loathing apologies. "I don't want to hear it!" 

"Then what the hell _do_ you want, flea? You're driving me crazy here!" Izaya wasn't the only one running out of patience, the veins on Shizuo's forehead throbbing noticeably. 

"I _want_ you to stop acting like a puppy with its tail tucked between its goddamn legs!" 

"I'm _trying_ to be careful!" 

"I don't _need_ you to be careful, I need you to be you!" 

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" 

"It _means_ off with the kid gloves!" 

"I don't want to hurt you!" 

"And treating me like a helpless victim is supposed to help with that? My ego's bruised enough as it is!" Izaya shouted angrily. "I mean, if you're not going to kill me, the _least_ you could do is help me feel _alive_ again!" It was the closest to begging he would allow himself to stoop to, trying desperately to hang on to the nearly non-existent amount of dignity he still had left. 

"So what, I should just _hurt_ you?" 

"I don't care _what_ you do, just do _something,_ you stupid beast!" 

"You're playing a dangerous game right now, _Izaya-kun..."_ Shizuo warned him, swallowing hard as a war between his desire and his self-control started to wage within him. 

"That's the only kind I know how to play, _Shizu-chan."_ Izaya sneered, his heart feeling like it was about to jump out of his chest. He could tell by the look on Shizuo's face that he was struggling with himself -- he supposed he couldn't blame him. 

"I don't want to break you..." 

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm _already_ broken." He pointed out sourly, shifting onto his knees so that he could untie his bathrobe and let it slip from his thin shoulders. "See?" He gestured to the bruises, hickeys, and bite-marks his pale skin was covered in. "So how about you stop pulling half-hearted excuses out of your ass and just tell me the truth. I disgust you, don't I?" 

"If you do, it's not even a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of a tenth of how much I disgust myself." Shizuo answered, guilt and jealousy flaring up as he took notice of all the marks that twisted son of a bitch had left on Izaya's body. He wanted nothing more than to replace each and every one of them with his own, so that neither him nor Izaya ever had to see those awful, ugly reminders of Hiro's existence again. "The things I've thought about doing to you... I'm no better than he wa -- " 

_*SMACK!*_

Stunned, it took a moment for Shizuo to register that Izaya had slapped him in the face. "What the _fuck?!"_ He stared at him incredulously, his cheek smarting. 

"I get it, Shizu-chan. You hate yourself. Join the fucking club! I happen to hate myself, too! But you love _me_ , right?" He asked, his voice faltering slightly on the word 'love'. 

"Always have, always will." Shizuo responded promptly, not a hint of hesitation or embarrassment in his voice. 

"More than you hate yourself?" 

"Easily." 

"Well, then you're in good company, because I feel the same exact way about you." Izaya no longer cared about trying to hold back his tears, letting them flow as freely as he was his feelings. "And if _you_ can't love _your_ self, and _I_ can't love _my_ self, then the only option left is for us to love each other." 

"Shit..." Shizuo laughed bitterly. All these years, and he'd never once thought that Izaya could have returned his feelings. 

"Ironic, isn't it?" Izaya's smile was as bitter as Shizuo's laugh. 

"If I had known..." 

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. Hindsight's twenty-twenty." Izaya once more offered him his hand. This time, he didn't hesitate to take it, letting Izaya bring his own hand up to his face so he could rest his cheek against his palm. "You're warm." He murmured, closing his eyes. 

"Izaya..." Shizuo licked his lips (which were suddenly feeling very dry), finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from the other man's infuriatingly handsome face. "I, uh..." 

"Shhh, don't speak. You'll ruin it." 

"Ruin what?" 

"The mood, obviously." 

Despite how annoyed he was, Shizuo obliged. He didn't need words to get his point across -- which he demonstrated by tightening his hold on Izaya's hand just long enough to pull him into his arms and bury his face in his tousled hair. Reflexively tensing up, it took a moment for Izaya to convince himself he had nothing to fear; the moment he did, the other's warmth spread over him like a security blanket and he found himself relaxing for the first time in he didn't even know how long. "I was wrong, you know." He said, after a long stretch of silence. 

"About what?" 

"You're not a monster." 

The words were quiet, almost inaudibly so -- but Shizuo heard them plain as day, the other's admission causing him to choke out a mix between a sob and a snort. "You say that now..." He muttered, releasing Izaya from his embrace so he could lay back and link his fingers behind his head. "But sure, go ahead and believe whatever you want. I don't have the energy to argue with you anymore." He closed his eyes, expecting Izaya to get up off of him the moment he got the chance. Unfortunately for him, the other man wasn't quite ready to give up just yet; shifting so that most of his weight was on the blonde's lap, Izaya began to slowly and deliberately gyrate his hips until Shizuo was forced to physically stop him before his erection could get any worse. _"Izaya..."_ He warned, his voice strangled. "You're making it really, really, really hard for me to resist touching you..." 

"Oh? Is that so?" Izaya leaned down until their noses were nearly touching, his adrenaline racing. "Then tell me, Shizu-chan... what do I need to do to make it impossible?" 

Before Shizuo had the chance to respond, Izaya closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together... which was all it took for him to surrender to temptation, kissing the smaller man back eagerly as he pushed himself into a sitting position and started to unbutton his dress shirt. Pleased that he had finally decided to cooperate, Izaya sighed happily and reached up to entangle his fingers in Shizuo's bleached locks. Despite knowing full well that the other man could easily hurt him (and not necessarily on purpose, either), he didn't feel the slightest bit concerned; if there had been one good thing to come out of Hiro's little revenge plot, it was that all the things that used to make him nervous now paled in comparison to what had already been done to him (it helped that Shizuo was actually trying to be considerate, his touch gentle despite its clumsiness). 

_I guess what doesn't kill you really does make you stronger..._

"You know, Shizu-chan..." He started, his voice barely more than a murmur against the other's mouth. "It's not fair that I'm the only one without pants on." It was almost comical how little time it took for Shizuo to get out of his slacks, Izaya's eyebrows raising at the sight of his cock standing at attention. "I should have known you'd be the type to go commando." He commented, swallowing hard. Shizuo was both longer and thicker than Hiro had been, and a sudden reminder of how painful his assault had been was making it so he was starting to have second thoughts. 

"I don't like underwear, it's too confining." Shizuo responded, reaching up to place a hand on Izaya's chest. "Lay back and close your eyes." He said, pushing at him lightly. 

"Why?" Izaya asked suspiciously, even as he did what he was told. "What are you going to do?" 

Instead of answering, Shizuo scooted back so that his face was hovering over Izaya's currently-flaccid cock. Checking to make sure the other's eyes were, in fact, closed, he leaned in and ran his tongue up the length of it. 

"Holy _fuck!"_ Izaya gasped in surprise, arching his back as his grip on the other's hair tightened reflexively. He'd never felt anything even _closely_ resembling what he was feeling now; when Shizuo decided to take it one step further by engulfing him completely in his warm, wet mouth, all ability to think went out the window. "Oh fuck, oh fuck... _hnn..."_ He covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow, his toes curling into the mattress. 

"God, you're beautiful." Shizuo breathed, causing Izaya's face to grow hotter than it already was. 

"Shut up and go back to giving me head." He snapped, earning a low, rumbling chuckle from the other man that made him grateful he couldn't see what kind of (most likely smug) expression he was wearing. 

"Whatever you say, Iiiiiizaya-kun." Smirking, Shizuo went back to sucking and licking at Izaya's erection like it was an ice cream cone. The smaller man was making the prettiest noises, every languid moan and hitch of breath making it harder and harder for Shizuo to not get ahead of himself; pausing so he could get his index finger nice and slick, Shizuo swirled his tongue around the head of Izaya's cock while very, _very_ carefully starting to slide the finger inside of him. Despite how impatient he was to actually be inside him himself, the events from a few days prior were still fresh in his brain... the last thing he wanted to do to the other man was put him through that again. What he didn't know, however, was that Izaya was feeling just as impatient as he was. 

"Put another one in." He ordered, not satisfied with just the one. Shizuo (unsurprisingly) put up no argument, pulling his finger back out just long enough to get a second finger wet enough to join it. "Fuck..." Izaya moaned, grinding down on them needily as they began to slowly stretch him open. If there was any pain at all, he wasn't aware of it; every now and then he'd feel one or both of Shizuo's fingers rub against his prostate, and it was all he could do just to keep from orgasming right there and then. 

_Not yet, Izaya, not yet... wait 'til he's inside of you._

Tugging insistently at the larger man's head, Izaya captured his lips for a kiss the moment they were free; cum leaking from the tip of his cock, he crawled onto Shizuo's lap and straddled him in such a way that their erections kept rubbing up against each other. "Mmmn..." He reached in between them so he could wrap his hand around Shizuo's cock, pumping it with a grip that was neither too firm nor too soft. When Shizuo decided to return the favor, _Izaya_ decided he was done being patient; lifting his hips, he guided the head of Shizuo's cock to the entrance of his throbbing hole. 

"Look, you don't have to do this -- " 

"Shut up, Shizu-chan." Izaya took a few deep breaths to calm himself before making a grabbing gesture at the other man's hands. "First time, take two..." He muttered under his breath, waiting until he had linked their fingers together to slowly begin lowering himself down onto Shizuo's waiting erection. 

"Oh, _fuck..."_ Shizuo let out a low groan at the feel of the other man's heat surrounding him, having to use all his willpower not to immediately start bucking into him like a mindless animal. 

_God, he feels so fucking good..._

"Is it... ah... everything you ever imagined, Shizu-chan?" Izaya asked breathlessly, determined not to stop until until the other man was completely in (no matter how much it hurt). 

"And more." Was Shizuo's response. Izaya had never looked more attractive than he did right now, biting his lower lip as he concentrated on the cock he was currently sitting on; when it was finally all the way inside, all it took was a subtle shift of Shizuo's hips to cause a string of thick, sticky cum to shoot out of the slightly dazed brunette. "That good, huh?" He joked, shifting once more so he was in a better position to start grinding up into him. 

"Nn..." 

"I'll take that as a yes." Keeping an eye on Izaya's face to watch for any signs that he might need to stop ( _and_ because it was a nice face to look at), Shizuo started to move at a pace and rhythm that wouldn't be too difficult for Izaya to handle; between that and the taste of the other man's exploring tongue, it didn't take more than a few minutes for Shizuo to reach his peak. "Oh, fuck..." He groaned. It wasn't until after he'd released his load inside of the other's ass that he realized he maybe should have given him a head's up. "Shit, sorry..." He went to pull out, but Izaya stopped him by placing a firm hand on his chest. 

"Please don't move." He requested breathlessly, pushing his sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead. "I need a second." 

"You okay?" 

"Yes, fine, just... overstimulated." When he'd managed to come down from his orgasm-induced high, Izaya very carefully removed himself from on top of Shizuo and flopped backwards onto the mattress. He was absolutely exhausted; he didn't even care that the other man's cum was still inside him, having no desire to move even a fraction of an inch. "I'm going to take a nap." He informed him, letting his eyes fall shut. 

"Mind if I join you?" 

"I would be insulted if you didn't." 

Shizuo snorted, shaking his head with an amused smile on his lips as he laid down next to Izaya and wrapped his arms around him. "Yeah, well, for all I knew you'd want some alone time or something." 

"That's actually incredibly considerate of you, Shizu-chan! There's hope for you yet." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

No response. 

"Oi, I asked you a question. What's that supposed to mean? Oi, Izaya?" 

When he still didn't get a response, he decided to just drop it and try to fall asleep. Burying his face in Izaya's still-damp hair, he breathed in his scent as he let his body and mind relax. Less than a minute later, he was snoring. 

Izaya, who had in fact been pretending to be asleep, rolled over so he could study the other man's face. He wondered if he had any idea how handsome he was; he remembered hearing once that the younger Heiwajima's talent agent had actually approached the older Heiwajima first, though at the time he'd dismissed it as no more than a rumor. Now that he was able to get a look at his face when it wasn't twisted with anger, he wouldn't be surprised if the rumor were actually true. 

_I suppose I could just ask him when he wakes up..._

Izaya didn't know if he'd ever be whole again after what Hiro had done to him, but he did know that recovery wasn't as impossible as he'd originally thought; while it was certainly going to take a while for him to be able to get around inside his apartment on his own (let alone get around _outside_ his apartment), he took comfort in the knowledge that he had support -- even if it _was_ in the form of the man he'd spent a good portion of his life running away from. 

_I wonder how long this little honeymoon phase is going to last..._

Unfortunately, Izaya had no way of predicting how their new dynamic was going to evolve; whether it would turn into the closest thing he could get to a happily ever after or a couples therapist's worst nightmare, he wouldn't know until he got there. It was scary, not knowing what the future might hold -- but if this whole ordeal had taught him anything, it was that he was tougher than he gave himself credit for. "Good night, Shizu-chan." He murmured to the sleeping man, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before rolling over and curling himself around one of his fuzzy black body pillows. The sound of the beast's snores strangely comforting, Izaya closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've received a few comments about the smut being too sudden, and while I understand why people might think that, I feel like it might be due to the fact that none of you lovely readers were in my head while I was writing this chapter. This end note is to try and help you see where I was coming from, so that you might be better able to make sense of my story choices.
> 
> As I'm sure you're all aware, people don't always cope in healthy ways -- especially after intense trauma. Izaya had spent most of his life avoiding any sort of uncomfortable situation, so he had no skills that might be able to help him deal with things in a manner that is beneficial to both his physical and mental health. On top of that, Shizuo coming to rescue him made him feel as if he owed the other man something... and Izaya does not like owing people things, so the sooner he could pay off that debt, the better. 
> 
> These things -- mixed with his desire to forget what happened, his discomfort with the thought of other people feeling sympathy for him, and the belief that he had deserved his suffering -- caused him to behave in an impulsive, irrational, and self-destructive manner. It would have been better for him to have waited until he was further along in his recovery to attempt to initiate any sort of sexual contact with Shizuo (or anyone at all, for that matter), but he was quite purposefully not using his common sense at that particular moment.
> 
> I hope this clears things up a little. >.<


End file.
